


Don't Let Go

by Skalidra



Series: 100 Prompts [9]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Brothers, Gen, Injury, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skalidra/pseuds/Skalidra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian and Jason don't get paired to work together that often, but when they do work together it's always at least semi-hostile, in one way or another. However, that doesn't mean that when there's an accident on one of the missions, Jason's just going to let the brat die. Whatever else they are, they're still family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! So, this is just a little oneshot that I wrote for another 100 prompts fill; number 35, 'Hold My Hand'. No slash here, just more brotherly style Batfam feels. With some angst, naturally. Enjoy!

__"I cannot believe I am paired with _you_ of all people, Todd."

He grits his teeth, and cleanly dispatches another of these stupid mercenary _assholes_ with a shot right to the center of his forehead. Rubber bullets, because he's got a tag-along little soldier and he's not up for the lecture he'll get from Bruce if he actually kills in front of the little assassin, but it still knocks the mercenary out and it'll leave a _hell_ of a bruise. He takes the little pleasures where and when he can, especially when he's paired up with any of the Bat's other not-so-wayward sons and daughters.

It's not so bad anymore; he's less crazy and for the most part he doesn't outright hate any of them anymore, or them him. Even Damian, the not-quite-so-little-anymore pain in the ass, is tolerable most days. Still arrogant, but he's older and a little bit less prone to randomly attack the people around him that should be his allies, so it's a step in the right direction. Plus, the little bastard is almost his height and actually a really good fighter these days; maybe even better than the rest of them, but that's hard to test. It's easier to respect someone when they're not only as tall as your waist and a tiny ball of deadly anger and so many emotional vulnerabilities it's a wonder they don't snap right in half.

At least these days, Damian's realized that he was only so successful as a kid because none of the rest of them were willing to actually go all out against a ten year old. Not that it's stopped him from being a pain in the ass.

"If you want to leave be my guest," he snaps, hating — _again_ — the stupid field technology that these bastards are using that was making his helmet fritz out, and killing both their coms. If he was less obviously irritated, Damian probably wouldn't be being such a shit, but he's fallen a little out of practice hiding his emotions since he's been using his helmet.

On the plus side, since he's short his com, he can say whatever the fuck he wants and no one gets to make disapproving noises at him. That's a nice little bonus; usually Dick starts reprimanding him over the coms if he curses too much, especially if it's _at_ Damian. Then again, Damian usually gets lectured at too, and that's not happening this time.

" _Please_ ," Damian scoffs, as if the idea offends him. "You would not last minutes without me here, Todd, and even as occasionally useless as you are I have no interest in seeing you die."

He really _thinks_ about aiming one of his not-so-lethal bullets into some part of the Robin suit that's less armored. But, in the end, decides it's a bad idea. There's still enough mercenaries here that he doesn't want to risk Damian being taken out from the distraction, and he really _shouldn't_ hurt the youngest Bat. After all, all their allies are off in other bases, and he does _not_ feel like having to deal with a bitching Damian all the way down the mountain from the base built into the side of it that they got assigned to take down.

There's the sound of a muted explosion, and he feels the floor rumble beneath his feet. He grins, mentally thanking Roy for the crazy yet kind of wonderful idea of roaming, relatively smart, robot-bombs. The mercenaries startle, and he laughs and takes a distracted one down with a hard boot to the chest as the rest start to retreat, deeper into the base and the mountain, probably to escape their no-longer-functional base on the airstrip that will _also_ soon be a smoldering pile of rubble.

A second explosion, and he shares a grin with Damian — all bitching aside, the younger Bat appreciates victory almost as much as he does — and moves to step closer, to join Damian and get out of here.

Then there's the sickening sound of cement breaking up, the shriek of distressed metal, and the whole place is shuddering, twisting, tilting underneath all of them. The mercenaries _run_ , and they make it deeper into the base but the floor is tilting too sharply and he loses his footing. A loud _crack_ , and some of the ceiling falls; he barely rolls out of the way as it crashes to the floor and then he's _sliding_ towards the open air of the side of the base.

He hears Damian cry out and jerks his head around to find him, and it only takes him one gut-wrenching second. Damian is sliding too, right down past him and going _faster_ somehow. He rolls as best as he can, reaches out, manages to grab Damian's arm and pull to try and slow the fall because that's _open cliff_ past the air of the balcony. He scrabbles for something else to hold onto, then reaches for his grapnel but it's too _late_.

He pulls Damian higher, gets himself lower down and _crashes_ into the metal of the railing instead, so Damian hits him. His armor takes most of the impact, _aches_ like a son of a bitch though, and then his chest goes tight because Damian's momentum is carrying him over the rail, into empty space, and he's going too. He __grabs the rail on instinct, Damian's weight snaps tight against his arm, and he _shouts_ as something between his shoulder blades pinches and pain _slices_ up and down his spine.

The rail holds.

He tightens his grip, gritting his teeth against the pain in his back and the effort to keep his arms slightly bent and not let them lock tight. At least his shoulders are more or less alright; there's the pain of straining muscle but nothing feels really injured, unlike his back where something is definitely _wrong_.

Damian is swinging some, leftover momentum, and he twists his head to look down and gets out, "You alright?"

Damian looks up at him, and his teeth are gritted too. They part enough to say, "I am not _dead_."

"Good enough," he answers. "Come on, either climb up or hook onto something so we can get out of here, brat."

"I cannot."

He glares and snarls, "Not the time to fuck with me, Damian."

"I _cannot_ ," Damian says again, stressing the word, and there's something tight to Damian's expression that makes him pause. Damian shifts the shoulder of the arm he's not holding onto, raises it some, and he swallows as he sees the awkward angle of Damian's lower arm. "Todd, I— There was—”

"It's fine," he says, cutting off Damian's almost desperate-edged words. "We'll figure something else out. Just… Just hold on, alright? Maybe I can..."

He braces himself and then pulls upwards, curling his arm and trying to get Damian high enough that the younger Bat can wrap legs around him or something. But he barely manages to get Damian a foot upwards before _pain_ erupts in the center of his back and he gasps and cries out, his arm dropping back down without his consent. He barely manages to stop it before it falls straight and locks his elbow in place, and it costs him another sharp bloom of pain between his shoulder blades to hold it. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites into his bottom lip.

"You are injured," Damian says, with something flat to his tone.

He lets go of his lip, but keeps his eyes shut as he spits, " _Fuck_ , no, I— I'm fine."

"You are not _fine_ , Todd."

"Well my _arm's_ not broken so I think I'm ahead," he gripes, and then shoves out a breath. "Shit. Sorry." He turns his head, looks down. "Can you… Can you curl up? Get your legs around me?"

Damian's hand tightens around his wrist, teeth flash as Damian bares them, and then he's curling up. He gets fairly high, and legs brush his thighs as Damian brings them in, but then Damian lets out a tight little sound of pain and goes back down. Slowly, deliberately, visibly trembling with strain. It keeps Damian's weight from falling against his arm again so he appreciates it, even if it's not what either of them want.

"No," Damian admits, sounding pained. "If I— If I let go, I may be able to get my grapnel out and attach to something in time."

"Don't you _fucking_ dare," he snarls. "You are _not_ risking yourself like that you son of a bitch and _yes_ , I do fucking mean Talia. You _hold on_ , Damian."

Damian glares up at him. "For what _purpose_ _?_ You cannot lift me, I cannot climb, and you simply holding me up until we both fall is _useless_. We must do _something_ , Todd!"

"I will _figure something out!_ " he shouts, and then grimaces and bites his lip again as the ache in the shoulder holding Damian up flares. "Just— Look, just don't, alright? Just hold on. We'll find some other way to get us both down. I—” He winces. " _Damn_ it, I— I'm going to do something; just _hold on_."

Damian doesn't answer him, so he tightens his grip on the rail, twists, and it _burns_ but he lifts his lower body and twists it up. His chest shakes, his _arms_ shake, but he manages to get one leg hooked through the bars of the railing, and then the other. It still holds, and he sends a sharp prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that it continues to. Carefully, he lets go with his other hand, and lets himself curve down until he can reach down and grab Damian's arm with his other hand too.

He _pulls_ , but that same pain flares in his back and even though he tries to keep going it just fails on him. He falls back, panting, gripping Damian's arm with both hands to lessen how they're shaking, threatening to let go. _No_ , that is not fucking happening. There is no way in hell that he's letting go of Damian, no matter how much of a pain in the ass he can be. He lets go with one hand, _carefully_ , and reaches up to grab one of the lengths of tie from his belt. Always prepared, right?

"What are you doing?" Damian demands, as he starts winding that tie around the length of their arms, where they're holding each other. " _Todd_ , what are you doing?"

"You are _not falling_ ," he snaps. "Maybe I can't hold you forever but I am _not_ losing you unless we both go. Fuck that."

Damian's jaw clenches tight. "Todd, _no_. Todd, this is utter foolishness; stop!"

"So call me a fool." He ties the knot, tightens it, ties another and makes sure it _won't give_. "Just need the time to figure this out without you deciding to be a sacrificing bastard and letting go."

"I am not _suicidal_ , Todd," Damian snarls up at him,

"Well you were talking about dropping so _excuse_ me if I don't believe you." Damian's weight pulls hard against his shoulder when he tests it, the cable digs into the armor covering both of their arms, but nothing gives. "Alright, so I guess if you don't want us both to die, you better help me figure out a way to get us out of this."

"If I _fell—”_

"I said _no_." He twists, grabbing Damian's arm for a second with his free hand and _squeezing_. "Come on, you brat. You think you're so fucking smart, how about you help me figure out a way to get us down without breaking too many things?"

Damian glares at him for a few more seconds, and then looks down, towards the mountain. He follows Damian's gaze, taking an actual look at what they're facing if they do fall. It's… Well, it could be worse.

There's another balcony below them, farther in against the mountain. They might be able to reach it, if they swung and let go, but the chance doesn't look great and the fall looks likely to break bones even if they do manage to get on the balcony itself and don't just smack into the railing. But below that… There's another opening into the base, much farther down; what looks like the end of a runway from an inner hangar.

He calculates the distance, squinting down at it and trying to think of lengths, tools…

The plan that forms in his head is not a good one. So he says, "I've got an idea but it's a really shitty one, so if you've got something better I'd love to hear it."

Damian peers downwards, and then nods towards the higher balcony. "If we swing, we may be able to make that balcony. It would not be a pleasant landing but we should survive if we are careful."

He grimaces, and then snorts. "Yeah, so your plan's just a little more shitty than mine. Alright, so, here's the thing. If I'm judging distances right, I think I can get us both down _without_ breaking anything. Of yours." Damian gives him a _sharp_ look, visible even behind the domino mask. "Shut up and listen, alright? If we drop, I can get a hook on that balcony, slow us down. After that, it should unwind long enough to get us down to within about a ten foot drop of that next level. My math sound right?"

"It sounds _idiotic_ ," Damian snaps. "Todd, my weight will rip your shoulder from its socket if we fall like that. It will tear muscle and worse; you _know_ that."

"Yeah, it will, but you know what? We'll make it down, we'll both be alive, and neither of us will have broken legs which will be _kinda fucking important_ for actually getting outta here." He squeezes Damian's arm again, and gives a sharp grin. "It's a good thing I don't have to hold on to actually keep you up, isn't it?"

"Todd, _no_." Damian sounds actually _worried_ now, mouth parting a bit in a small gasp. "Todd, it could kill you. It could _cripple_ you. Permanently."

He reaches up, finds the grapnel in his belt and works it free. "Like I said; if you've got a better idea you tell me, Damian. This is a _shitty_ idea but it's all I got." Damian grinds his teeth together, but doesn't answer. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He carefully gets another tie out of his belt too, and reaches down so he can tie the grapnel to his free hand. "So, I'm probably going to black out for at least a few seconds, but the cable should hold and so should these so… so you should be fine. Just get me awake again, however you need to."

" _Todd_ , I—” Damian stares up at him, and then breathes, "I do not wish you to die."

He pauses for a second, and then somehow manages a tiny, crooked smirk that he's pretty sure isn't nearly as comforting as he wants it to be. "I've taken worse. Death's not so bad; it's the coming back that's hell."

Damian winces, and then says, "I know. I—” Damian cuts off, and he ties the last knot and then lets his arm be still as he meets the lenses of that mask.

"What?" he asks, when Damian doesn't continue.

That gets Damian to squeeze his arm with the tied up hand, and then to breathe out slow and say, "If this does not go as planned, I will not let them attempt to bring you back, Todd. I will make sure they cremate you so you never face a grave again, no matter what."

He freezes for a second, and then gives a sharp laugh and manages to get, " _Thank you_ ," past the sudden tightness of his throat. "Same to you."

Damian gives a short nod, and then squeezes his arm again. "Do it then, Todd. We only waste strength hanging here; get it over with."

He snorts, shaking off the tightness. "Says the guy who's _not_ about to get his arm nearly ripped off. Alright, just… Here we go, I guess."

He raises the grapnel, starts to aim, and then slowly eases one leg off the rail. The metal creaks, he takes a deep breath in, and he relaxes his other leg and lets it slide through too. It's a sickening feeling as they start to drop, and he twists, makes _damn_ sure he's got the angle right, and fires at the railing of that secondary balcony. It catches, he breathes in, mentally braces and tightens the muscles he needs to. The cable goes taut, there's a single moment where they're still falling, and then it _wrenches_ to a halt and it's just _pain_ , all across his shoulders and his upper back.

He _screams_ , feeling and almost _hearing_ the tearing of his shoulder as all of Damian's weight yanks at it. His other shoulder aches, cold washes down his back, and his head rolls back, black spots sweeping over his vision. He doesn't know if he comes back to himself a second or a minute later, but he comes back shaking, in _agony_ , with Damian repeating his name with growing levels of concern.

" 'M okay," he manages to mumble, or something like it. Slowly, painstakingly, he moves his upper hand until he finds the button on the grapnel to extend the cable, and forces himself to crane his head up and double check it's the right one before he pushes it down. They start to lower, and he tilts his head down to watch as they slowly drop down to that open bit of outside runway.

Damian is watching _him_ , expression tight, and he knows he should say something, stop Damian from worrying, but he can't quite manage to form the right words. So he doesn't say anything, just lets them lower until the cable refuses to go any further. His math was right on; he's about six feet from the ground, Damian's only a couple. He swallows, looks up, and finds the button to release the cable and let them drop.

It lets go, and they drop. Damian hits first, and the pull of his arm in a different direction as Damian lands makes _pain_ wash through him again. His vision spots black again, and he doesn't land so much as hit his feet and then crumple downwards and to the floor. He's dimly aware of Damian yelping, but everything _hurts_ and he's breathing shallow and fast, and the cement is cool against his face so he doesn't really want to get back up.

"Todd. _Todd!_ " He blinks, looks upwards, and Damian is kneeling over him, staring down. "Todd, I need you to wake up. You must untie us before I can get us out of here. Remember?"

He stares, and then slowly _does_ remember. He shifts his head in a small nod, and then pulls his other arm out from half underneath him, moving as little as possible as he reaches up and makes his fingers work on the knot securing the cable holding his and Damian's arms together. He shudders at the feeling, but manages to get it undone, and carefully loosens it enough that Damian can slip his arm free. Then he lowers his head again, screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

"Todd, can you understand me?"

He nods. Then forces himself to breathe in and open his eyes, mumbling, "Hurts; big fucking shock, right?"

Damian's hand pushes his hair away from his face, the rough pads of the glove sliding over his cheek. "Come, Todd. Let us get out of here; we shall contact the family as soon as we are out of the range of these scramblers and get you medical attention."

"Us," he corrects, even as he sort-of helps Damian get both of them to their feet. "Broken— Broken arm. Don't think I forgot."

Damian scoffs, then agrees. "Yes; us."

* * *

"Do you regret it?" Damian asks him, months later.

It's in a moment of silence, with his head lowered to a book and Damian curled halfway into his side with another one. Shakespeare for him, Tolstoy for Damian because apparently he's still working through Bruce's collection of classics. He's deep into the words, so it takes him a few moments to rise high enough out of them to even understand that Damian has asked a question. Another before he connects it to what Damian's talking about.

Damian's left arm is still in a cast, currently resting near his thigh. His left arm is still in a sling, held as immobile as physically possible. Everything else has healed, but those are the two lingering reminders of their only sort of successful and _very_ costly mission. He's been basically housebound to the manor since, but it's been… nice, actually. Strangely nice.

He never expected Damian to make such a very good reading partner; he's pretty sure Damian never expected him to either.

"Saving your life?" he counters, glancing up at Damian, who is very resolutely _not_ looking at him. "No. It's not permanent anyway; I'll be fine."

Now Damian does glance up at him. Very briefly. "The doctors say you will never have full range of motion back; it sounds permanent."

He sighs, shuts the book, and looks up. "First off, no matter what bullshit Bruce tells you, it's _rude_ to look at someone else's medical files without their permission. Secondly, _fuck_ what the doctors say. We've all been through worse and come out fine."

Damian closes his book too; looks up. "But—”

"A life's worth more than a shoulder," he interrupts. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He stretches out a little bit, then gives a crooked grin and offers, "So, want to watch something? Movie, couple episodes of some show? I am so unbelievably not picky right now."

Damian pauses, and then gives a small nod and sets his book aside. "I suppose I could be persuaded, if you are so entirely bored."

"Great, then grab the remote and let's do this."


End file.
